Chapter 11 - The Three Million Dollar Policy
I pulled the documents out of the padded envelope.
The logo at the top belonged to one of the largest underwriters in Michael’s network.
It was a term life insurance policy.
The insured party was Laura Cole.
The payout was three million dollars.
"Look at the date," Diane said, her voice trembling.
I checked the second page. The policy had been initiated six months ago. The exact time Michael had started telling me I was "imagining the distance" between us.
But what made my blood run cold was the signature on the bottom.
Once again, my name was perfectly forged.
"He took out a policy on my life without my knowledge," I said, feeling sick to my stomach.
"Look at the beneficiary," Diane urged, pointing a manicured finger at the third page.
I flipped the page.
The primary beneficiary wasn't Michael.
It was the Cayman Islands LLC. The shell company he controlled.
"If something happened to you," Diane whispered, terrified, "the money would go straight to the offshore account. Untraceable in a divorce. Untouchable by the banks he defrauded."
I stared at the paperwork.
Michael hadn't just been planning to steal my retirement and run away with his mistress. He had been planning a much darker exit strategy.
"He was trying to get me to go hiking with him next weekend," I said, the memory suddenly flashing in my mind. "At Starved Rock. He kept insisting we needed a weekend away to reconnect."
Diane covered her mouth. "Oh my God."
"Mom?"
Ben appeared in the hallway, sensing the tension. He looked at Diane, then at the papers in my hand.
I quickly folded the papers and shoved them back into the envelope. "It's okay, Ben. Just some business paperwork."
I didn't want him to know. I didn't want my fifteen-year-old son to carry the burden of knowing his father might have been planning to kill his mother. Some secrets are too heavy for children to hold.
I turned back to Diane.
"Why did you bring this to me?" I asked softly. "You could have thrown it away. You could have pretended you never knew him."
Diane looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. "Because my sister was killed by her husband three years ago. He had a secret policy on her, too. When I saw what this was... I couldn't just walk away."
I felt a sudden, profound wave of empathy for this woman. She wasn't a villain either. She was just another prop in Michael’s play.
"Thank you," I said, meaning it from the bottom of my heart. "You just gave me the final nail for his coffin."
Diane nodded, wiping her eyes. "I'm going back to New York tonight. I hope you ruin him, Laura."
"I intend to," I said.
I watched her walk back to her town car. As it pulled away, I closed the front door and locked the deadbolt.
I walked into my study, opened the safe where I had put the duffel bag of cash, and placed the insurance documents right on top.
Monday morning wasn't just going to be a financial reckoning. It was going to be an annihilation.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was Rachel.
"Laura," Rachel said as soon as I answered. She sounded breathless, panicked. "You need to come to the agency. Right now."
"What's wrong? It's Sunday, the building is closed."
"I know," Rachel said. "But my keycard still works. I came in to start looking at the files like we talked about."
"And?"
"Laura, his office has been cleared out," Rachel said. "The hard drives are gone. The filing cabinets are empty. But that's not the worst part."
"Rachel, slow down. What is it?"
May you like
"There's a man sitting at his desk," Rachel whispered, her voice dropping so low I could barely hear her. "He says he's a federal agent. And he says he's been waiting for you."
TITLE: The Agent At The Stolen Desk
